I travel for my job every month, with a female co-worker, on three-day site visits in distant cities. I am happily married, and my travel partner is recently divorced from a guy she caught cheating on her. Nancy isn’t exactly a slut, but she does love good times. A free hotel room in a city where no one knows her is an opportunity for her to have some good times with new men. On most of our trips, she gets laid by some random bar pick-up. Nancy loves her job.

On the other hand, I am a genuine straight-arrow. I never cheated on my wife, Sandra. Nancy sometimes chides me for so often saying that I'm happily married. She too was once, or she thought she was, and I think sometimes she tires of hearing me praise my wife and our marriage, given her divorce. When I go on and on too long about my faithful marriage, I can see her slight eye-rolls. She just can't seem to bring herself to accept that some marriages really are made in Heaven.

It’s hard to describe how it came to pass, but Nancy always had zero interest in me as road-cock. Zilch, nada. Sometimes I've been with her late at night when she hasn't found a guy, and even though she was wearing beer goggles she left me alone. I am perfectly OK with being in her friend-zone. We like each other as office buddies and friends, nothing more.

But while there's no spark between us, I really do enjoy her company when we're on the road together. Our work travel involves a lot of hotel breakfasts and dinners together. She's witty and friendly and easy to be with. Nancy also has a terrific body, which she works hard to maintain even when traveling. She tells me that hitting the hotel Exercise Room pays two benefits – keeping her tight, and finding buff men. No one ever called me buff.

When we travel we normally have dinner together, fairly early, maybe in the hotel, and then go our separate ways until breakfast. More than once after a trip my wife has grilled me about what Nancy and I do with our evenings, but I've never been tempted to misbehave and I know for sure Nancy feels the same way about me. We're good friends and enjoy each other's company, and that's all.

***

One night, in Boston, a guy dining by himself at another table started flirting with Nancy despite the fact that she was obviously with me. She pointed him out to me, without being obvious about it, and said, "That guy's no saint, Don. Notice his ring? He's married, too. Some guys still 'have it' even if they're married." I didn't take any offense, because I'm proud of my restraint.

He later ambushed her coming back from the bathroom, out of my sight, with a proposition. He wasn’t what Nancy had in mind, so she blew him off, and our evening continued. I didn't see their short conversation near the restrooms, but I had noticed his attempts at eye-contact while we were all seated at dinner.

The next day at breakfast she told me that the guy had assumed we were a married couple; he'd asked her if her husband let her "play around”. He loved wives with open marriages! It was convenient for her to let him think we were married – easier to brush him off – and she told him I was very jealous, and then left him to return to our table.

We both had a good laugh. But then she floored me by asking if I would be willing to have some fun with her that night. I guess she noticed from my expression that I thought she was hitting on me, and she quickly explained her idea.

She said there were lots of guys who really got aroused by the idea of banging some other guy’s wife. She admitted she herself thought the idea of being a hot wife was kind of exciting, and that because she was, in fact single, being a slut wife was a thrill she couldn’t really experience.

Our conversation wandered around for a bit. Remember, we’re not an actual couple, and it is a least a little bit awkward to be talking about sexual stuff, even though we’re not flirting with each other. I think I sounded a bit disapproving of the impulse, and she told me not to be "all goody-goody." She made at least one joke about how if she’d known her ex-husband had been cheating on her, she would have done it to him, too.

I said that I would be willing to play-act as her husband at dinner as long as she didn’t expect me to do anything my wife wouldn’t approve of.

"Oh, no," she taunted me, "we wouldn't want to piss off the Ice Princess. Or test if you're really holier than everybody else."

Nancy proposed that we simply walk in at meals holding hands, no kissing or other touching. Maybe we laugh a little too hard at each other’s jokes, I hold her chair for her, and – her best idea – that I call her my "wife" when speaking to the wait staff, as in, “my wife will have the trout.”

She added, when I hesitated to agree, "Are you so pure that you won't even let me have a little dirty fun?"

So, that night we did all those things. I held her hand, which felt weird, pulled out her chair, etc. It was easier than I had feared to pretend to be affectionate to Nancy. I didn't find her attractive or anything, but other men treated her like she was pretty hot. She played her role to the hilt, smiling at everything I said, and leaning into me once or twice as we dined.

She soon caught some guy’s eye and sent him those secret signals women have that say “hi there, big fella”. (Not to say I've ever gotten such signals!) She asked me to go to the washroom for ten minutes, to give her some space, and he approached her right away. Of course he did. Other men were drawn to Nancy most of the time.

Later, when I'd returned to our table, she went to the bathroom, and he made his big move. He caught her in the hallway on her way back to our table. She told him some story about how yes, now that he mentioned it, she loved cheating on her husband, and that her cuck had no say in who she slept with. She agreed to go upstairs to his room with him.

He was smirking smugly when she walked him back to our table. They stood next to me while I remained seated. Nancy said, barely loud enough for the server to overhear, “Darling, I’m going to sleep with Thomas here tonight. I’ll see you in the morning. Don't play with yourself until I get back, you understand?”

Her catch-of-the-day was standing very close to my chair, and I couldn't help noticing the sizeable bulge in his trousers. I may have stared at him a moment too long, and I briefly imagined him in bed with "my wife." I don't think either of them noticed me looking at his erection, so close to my face.

They turned and walked back to the elevators while I choked on my drink. He was so proud of himself, thinking he's bagged a hot wife, when in fact he had been her trophy. Some guys are so stupid.

As "my wife" and her lover went out of sight, I turned back to my meal. Only then did I notice the waitress hovering next to our table. The look of pity and contempt on her face was striking. Even though this was an act, I felt ashamed of myself as a man, as if my real wife had just kicked me to the curb for a more macho man with a bigger penis.

Sandra and I didn't have sex much anymore, now that we're no longer youngsters. She tells me all the time that people our age, people in their forties, are "…pretty much done with sex. None of my girlfriends have sex with their husbands much nowadays," she told me.

I had come to be quite accustomed to intercourse only every six or eight weeks, tugging myself off in between if I couldn't control my urges. My wife seemed satisfied with our less-active sexual activities. I love my wife, and I'm not going to cheat on her with some slut I meet on the road.

Now remember, I had zero sexual involvement in Nancy's "hot wife" charade. I agreed only to be a stage prop in Nancy's sex drama. I wouldn't have considered anything else. I had zero "guilt" about helping Nancy because we both agreed not to do anything sexual with each other.

But that night in Boston I was shocked to realize that I was, first of all, as hard as a rock, and second, jealous that “my wife” was fucking random dudes. As soon as I paid the check – and the waitress was trying very hard not to laugh at me - I went to my room and beat my meat like a teenager. Lurid pictures raced through in my brain of my own staid wife opening her legs for some young stud. My fantasies focused on the particular guy now with Nancy – I fantasized about him in my bed back home, pleasuring my wife with his enormous cock while the two of them laughed at me.

I not only disobeyed Nancy, but I beat off twice, pumping my own lonely but pure cock in my bedroom that night. I first imagined that guy from downstairs making love to my wife, and then I imagined him in bed with Nancy. In my fantasy, naked Nancy was absolutely beautiful, and I wondered why I'd never thought so in real life.

The next morning's breakfast together was genuinely weird. Although in reality, we were still just friends and coworkers, we now had some sort of kinky sexual history together. For my part, having masturbated to thoughts of her naked last night, I felt guilty, almost as if we had actually done something illicit together. On her side, I had been involved, if only peripherally, in her passionate evening.

So there we were at breakfast, still just a business couple on a professional trip, nothing more, each with a brain full of dirty pictures. She couldn’t stop talking about Tom, his dick, and his triple-header performance. I’m sitting there secretly enjoying the details, pretending to be disinterested, and kind of baffled at why she thinks this is of interest to me.

I finally said to her, “Nancy, you know I’m not really your husband, right? Did you forget? Before last night I never cared who you slept with, and I don’t much care now.”

She held my gaze for a moment and replied, “Yes Don, you do. I can see it in your face, and I saw it last night. You were turned on last night. Did our little husband-wife play-acting give you a hard-on? Did you play with your cock in your room while picturing me getting laid? And this morning you have been undressing me with your eyes ever since I came in.”

I stared back, unsure what to say. Pretty close. I think dreaming of her having sex while I masturbated would have been less of a transgression than what I actually dreamt of, which was my own cuckolding by my real-world wife. Which will never happen, because she pretty much hates sex.

She grinned triumphantly. “It did, didn’t it? Donnie got all boned up watching his sweet make-believe wifey go away to get laid by the big strong man! You pretend to be so pure and noble, and you love your wife, and you'd never cheat, blah, blah. You're such a better person than I am, right?”

And then, before I could answer, she leaned forward, touched the back of my hand, and said, “I’ll bet you’re hard right now Don, aren’t you? You're my make-believe cuckold, and it makes you hard that I give your make-believe wifey-pussy to another man, doesn't it?”

Remaining silent, I nodded.

Her serious expression vanished and, with a big smile she told me this was terrific, and we could play “cuck & slut” again that evening. Cuck & slut? She even had a name for what we were playing!

***

The next two nights in Boston we acted out a similar script in a nearby bar, and at a restaurant a few blocks away. Each night she left me behind as she went away with “a better man”. Each night I pulled on my cock so much it was sore.

Each morning she recounted their conversations, and their acrobatics, from the night before. Each morning, she gently taunted me, "Old Mister Straight Arrow Faithful Hubby," for getting visibly boned at the breakfast table. Each morning I sheepishly affirmed, or failed to deny, that I had masturbated myself to sleep the previous evening.

She always told her lovers that her husband was a wimpy cuck who got off on her cheating with younger, bigger, or better-looking men. They all ate this shit up; loved thinking they'd cock-blocked her husband. She loved insulting and demeaning her (make-believe) husband with these studs, because in some corner of her sick mind, she was somehow cheating on her real (ex-) husband.

Telling total strangers that her husband was a dud in bed was her way of punishing her ex- for the real hurt he had caused her with his real betrayal. Some of this verbal abuse she unloaded in my presence when the three of us had not yet gone separate ways. She'd tell her pick-up that I couldn't please her, allowed her a hall pass, and I had to sit there in front of him and pretend to be embarrassed by her insults. But most of her “he’s a cuck” stuff she fed the guys after I had been left behind for the night.

At breakfast our last day she went on and on about what the two of them had said the night before about her "stupid husband". At first, I considered this just sort of part of our role-play – she was telling me the parts that happened off-stage, so to speak. But I also knew that telling (real) me, to my face, all the insulting and degrading things they'd said about (make-believe) me the night before was getting her aroused. I was just pretending to be her husband, but she got to come down the next morning with her well-fucked pussy and degrade and humiliate me to my face - while "just pretending."

***

I may be her senior in the office, but on the road, she's getting to call me a worthless little-dicked sissy. And it makes the real me hard. She's putting me in my place; she's emasculating me and, by extension, she was pissing all over my "perfect" marriage. And yet it was all just part of a game.

This whole scene was getting very kinky and confusing, even though I had done absolutely nothing sexual to anyone. One complication is that I am indeed smaller down there than the average guy. Nancy couldn't possibly know this but, hard as a rock, which doesn't happen often, my erection measures five inches. Almost. And after many years of marriage, I was sometimes unable to get it up with my wife, even though it usually had been almost two months since the previous fuck.

Nancy's insults, fiction thought they were for her, were right on the money for me.

This was such a thrill for her that a few weeks later, back in the office, she told me she had even bigger plans for our October trip to Denver….

+++

During our first “naughty trip” – and I repeat that she and I had no sexual relations at all – we played a game Nancy called “cuck & slut”. It was important to me that I not cheat on my wife, and my struggle was made easy by the fact that Nancy and I had no particular sexual attraction between us. She obviously preferred men who are big and broad, and I’m a little on the short side – I'm even an inch or two shorter than Nancy.

A few days before we were scheduled to go on our trip to Denver, Nancy told me that it continued to bother her that her ex-husband had cheated on her - and that she got divorced before she got an opportunity to “pay him back”. Playing the role, on travel, of a cheating, dominant “wife” had been a real boost to her battered self-esteem. She seemed genuinely grateful to me for letting her stretch her libido outside its normal bounds.

I admitted to her that I had enjoyed helping her more than perhaps I ought to have. She knew, I said, that Sandra was as conservative, "romantically" (I couldn't quite say "sexually") as I was. Men have fantasies too, I confessed, and since my real wife would never be a hot-wife, role-playing with Nancy was kind of thrilling. But I ended by saying again that our real-world contact with each other couldn't cross the line.

Nancy told me that she respected my insistence that we not do anything “romantic” with each other, and buttered me up a bit by saying that I was clearly a model husband. She didn't actually mean it; the truth is she found my constant references to my solid marriage to be insulting and supercilious. But I outranked her, so she kissed my butt a bit in the office. Needless to say, she didn't know that I sometimes failed sexually to satisfy my real wife.

But Nancy had just one favor to ask….

Looking back on things now, I realize that she was smart to tell me in advance about her plan to ramp up our “game” in Denver. It would have been a bad idea to spring it on me on the road. If she had changed the script while our scenario was being played out in real time, I probably would have balked. No, I certainly would have balked. It is only because I had a few days to prepare myself that I was able to agree to what she wanted.

To better pretend that she was cuckolding her husband, she wanted me, playing the role of hubby, to be present next time she “cheated” on me. Not literally in the bedroom, not watching her in the act. She quickly said that she knew my up-tight wife would never approve if I actually watched Nancy “get laid” in real-time. But she wanted me to be nearby when the guy she would seduce took her to his room to cuckold "her husband." She had this all figured out.

***

We booked into a Residential Suite Hotel in Denver so that she and I would have hotel rooms with a separate bedroom. I'd remain in the living room while they enjoyed each other in the bedroom.

We strolled into the hotel bar that night holding hands, acting for all the world to see like a husband and wife. Yet after about thirty minutes she was dancing way too close with a guy who was about ten years younger than us.

For this new scenario, she brought him to our table, and the three of us had another drink together while Gary tried to figure us out. I mean, this dude's wife was coming on to him, and the dude didn't care? Nancy was improvising conversation like mad, and I struggled to keep up with her bullshit about “our kids” back home, and how we just moved into a new house, etc. I did a lot of nodding and agreeing. He eventually figured out that I was so agreeable, Nancy was so much in charge, that I'd agree to let him pork my wife.

Her target had picked up women in bars before, even married women, but never with the husband right there watching. Nancy sat close to him, ran her hands over his thigh a lot, and told him that, "We finally decided after ten years of routine sex that we needed to have an open marriage." She then added, with just a touch of snark, that, "Sex with my husband just doesn't do it for me anymore, does it, Don?"

She then told me, “I’ve kissed you enough tonight, Don” (she had not!) and now I want to kiss Gary.” And with that, she gave him a short but sweet kiss, on the lips, right there in front of me, and the entire hotel staff.

 Gary actually looked uncomfortable, but he kissed her back while her hand did God knows what under the table. Then she sat back with a big smile on her face and said, “Don, let’s go up to Gary’s room for a while. You can watch TV or something while this young man and I get to know each other better. Is that OK with you, Gary?"

She rather dramatically took both our arms and led us to the elevator. I was too flustered and unsure of the part I was supposed to play to notice how many people in the bar watched Nancy make a chump out of “her husband”.

Once we were inside the elevator, Nancy grabbed Gary and gave him a long kiss that seemed to assure him that this was all going to be a real adventure for him. It also obviated any need for any more talking. I stood by silently as my "wife" French-kissed the man who would soon make me a "cuckold." My passive acceptance of their making out was all the evidence Gary needed to relax about my being along for the ride. Clearly, the wimp husband had nothing to say about anything this hot wife wanted to do. 

Nancy was the only one of the three of us who knew exactly where this was all going. She had clearly planned this to a “T” and had all her lines ready for delivery. As Gary opened the door of the room Nancy led me in by the hand and said, “Daddy, you sit out here and make yourself comfortable. Gary is going to show me something in the bedroom."

Got it; now we are "Daddy" and "Mommy", which is in fact what my wife and I have called each other ever since our first child many years before. Nice touch, I thought.

"You stay right here and listen. Maybe you'll learn something. And you damned well better be here when we’re finished, too, no sneaking off to beat off in our hotel room, like you did last time Mommy made a new friend.”

What “last time”? I was getting confused between what was real and what was make-believe. I knew Nancy really did want me, her friend and co-worker, pretending to be her husband, to be next door listening while she, in her own mind, got even with her real ex-husband for cheating on her and then divorcing her.

So, purely for her own excitement, to enhance her imaginary cuckolding of her imaginary husband in the next room, she wailed and screamed through the next hour or so. She said, loud enough for “her husband” to hear, how good a lover Gary was. It was like one of those cheesy porn movies I watched at home, late at night, after Sandra was asleep. One inane comment after another about the size of his perfect cock, her husband’s inability to give her an orgasm, etc. You read and watch porn – I don’t have to write it out here. She was acting like a dominating whore to heighten her thrills, but her orgasms (and Gary's) were very real.

Gary didn’t know I was just playing a part, so he decided to humiliate “her husband” too. He blathered about how tight she was, since "Daddy" had a little boy's cock. He bragged he was going to ruin her pussy for my cock, and so on. It’s all cheesy and formulaic now, but in the heat of the actual sex, it was really quite exciting for all of us. Nancy was finally satisfying a need she’d had for years to even her score, even if only symbolically. Gary was being a bull for an oversexed wife of an undersexed husband, just like in pornworld. This might very well have been the best sex either of them had ever had.

And I know all of this because accidentally I could see some of their bedroom activity - in a mirror. The full-length dressing mirror was on the inside of the bedroom door, left ajar on purpose so "my sissy cuckold" could listen, and happened to be angled so that if I leaned a little to my right, I had a view as if from the bottom of the bed.

At first, I tried to resist watching, really.

Then I began to wriggle around in the chair to get a better angle.

I felt terrible about what I was doing, in that I was sort of cheating on my wife by watching naked people fucking. But I’d never seen other people having sex before, and it was just so compelling. I couldn’t tear my eyes away: Gary’s sweaty ass was pounding Nancy's pelvis, and I could see and admire the flexing of his glutes, the pumping of his cock, Nancy’s legs were wide open, and her tits were sliding around on her chest as her whole body moved.

Finally, I stood up to get a better angle but did not approach the doorway. Now, standing while looking at the mirror, I could see past Gary’s hips to see Nancy’s pussy and the sloppy juices that covered both of their sex organs. It kind of surprised me that she had an unshaved pubic region. For some reason, I’d imagined her fashionably shaved down there.

I could now also see her face, although Gary was still facing away from me. Nancy’s eyes were squinted closed in passion, but when she did open them she saw me in the mirror and visibly flinched. Her hips slowed and she fell silent; her facial expression gave nothing away for a second or two. Her brain was suddenly and for an instant in the real world, her cunt was on display to a coworker she barely liked, and her make-believe husband had gone rogue and was no longer doing as he's been told.

Nancy had become used to being in charge of our relationship outside the office. But she hadn't planned on this. She'd never respected me as a man, and had mostly stopped weeks ago respecting me as her senior in the office. I'd been reduced to a human sex toy, a device to heighten her pleasure in the bedroom, but merely a device, without urges of its own. Now here I was, face flushed, mouth open, hypnotized by her limitless lust. My eyes darted from her frothy vagina to her lovely breasts and then again to her eyes. I was lost, and she kept humping and fucking, planning her next move.

She suddenly grinned at me and I knew her brain went back into sex-world. She was receiving a Grade A dicking from a well-endowed and energetic stud. Her "husband" was stepping forward for more humiliation than he had originally signed up for. And now she could get Gary in the game. She shifted her hips into third gear.

She resumed a running porny dialogue with Gary about how good his cock was and how she was going to come again. Of course, she wasn’t really talking to Gary – she was also talking to her make-believe cuckold husband. And, in her head, she wasn’t even talking to me, her real-world co-worker – she was magically talking to the fool who gave up this hot cunt for something new, her ex-husband, with whom she was finally sort of getting even, in her head.

Then Nancy, ad-libbing our script, suddenly took us in a new direction. She ordered me into the room. "Get your ass in here, Donnie,” she said towards the door. "Come watch me get what you don't give me. Gary, let my cuckboy see your cock."

Gary, startled, jerked his head around, and looked for a moment like he had forgotten the husband was in his hotel room. Then his face looked for a brief instant as if I was a problem. Then, finally, his face relaxed as he realized the sissy pussy who let his wife fuck strangers was going to join them.

I stood inside the bedroom doorway, staring slack-jawed at his cock, most of the way out of its furry sheath between Nancy's legs.

Nancy said, "Want to get a good look at what you're missing, Daddy?"

 By now Nancy knew me better than I knew myself. I did want to see what I was missing, even though if asked, I would have denied it. She knew I wanted to come closer, and she told me to "get in here." She was sure I would, and I did, which made everything that followed possible.

"Kneel here, darling, get next to Mommy. Look at the big man's cock fucking Mommy so good. He's better than you, Daddy. He's so much bigger and harder and he makes Mommy cum so much. So much cumming, Don."

Most of the world's dicks are bigger and harder than mine, so that stung. Gary was about eight inches long and uncircumcised. I'd only ever seen a few cocks other than my own, and never one that was uncut.

Gary wanted to play, too. "Mommy's a slut, Don. Look at my cock fucking her cunt so good."

OK, while Gary wasn't as good at the porn dialogue as Nancy, I give him points for trying. And it was the thought that counts.

"Eat your wife's pussy, man. Lick my jizz out so we can go again." He pulled the head of his dick out of Nancy's cunt and waited for me to comply. His foreskin rolled forward to cover the swollen head of his penis.

I stared at his slimy dick for a second, covered in their juices, and then turned to look up at Nancy. We stared into each other's eyes for two or three seconds, which felt longer to me. I tried to cling to my resolve not to get involved. Acting a role for Nancy was one thing, but now I confronted another thing. Something dark, and deep within me. A secret.

Her right foot, dangling off of the bed, nudged my crotch. My resolve wavered.

She knew I was boned. She kept stroking my little hard-on with her toes. "You want to eat me, don't you Darling? That's your dirty little secret, isn't it? You want my sloppy wet cunt for yourself, don't you, Don? You're not really too good to want my hot pussy, are you?"

And I realized in a blinding flash that Nancy was speaking to me, the real me, her oh-so-virtuous co-worker and boss. She wasn't teasing her make-believe husband, or even her real ex-husband.

Nancy somehow knows Goody Two Shoes wants badly to forget those marriage vows he talks about, and eat her slutty promiscuous cunt. Indeed, Nancy understands somehow that I want to snack at her vagina so badly that I'll drink a stranger's cum.

Maybe even go further.

She's won the whole game. She turned me into a cuckold without even having to marry me first.

"I won't let you eat me with your pants on Don. Strip. Show this big strong man why I needed him so bad."

It took me almost a minute to move, but I gave in and started to unbutton my shirt. Gary took my arm and lifted me to my feet. The two of them unfastened my belt, lowered my zipper, and pulled down my trousers and my boxers. My steel-hard cock popped up, and they both laughed at how small it was compared to Gary's, even though his was softening.

Her lover pushed me down, and forward. Nancy reached up to guide my face into her messy, hairy crotch. The smell was overpowering, but I often went down on my wife back home and this was all so familiar. I lapped vigorously between her labia and groaned my pleasure. My tongue found her clit, and my lips swallowed Gary's leaking ejaculate. It felt so good to let go of my upright, righteous, better-than-other-people attitude. I wasn't a faithful husband, better than the slut whore whose cunt I was eating. I was no better than Nancy, or Gary.

My wife's pussy had never tasted quite as pungent as Nancy's did right then. My wife shaves her pussy regularly, and I wasn't used to eating such a furry pie. I'd briefly worried that Gary's jizz would be unpleasant, but Nancy's pussy didn't taste very different than my wife's. Trying to please my wife orally was a regular thing, given my erection problems. And I'd always loved the taste of her sex, especially when she asked me to lick her when I returned from my road trips.

Gary took me by the ears and turned my head to face him. "Clean me, too, cuckold," he groaned. "Suck horny Mommy's juices off of my big greasy dick. 'Cause your darling wifey wants more real cock."

I was startled by his demand; I hadn't expected such an masculine, alpha-type stud to be tempted to do something so gay. This would be a big leap for me. Breaking my vows a few moments ago had only involved doing for my make-believe wife something I was very accustomed to doing for my real wife. But touching a man's penis was a whole different ball game. Gary had no idea what he was doing. Neither one of them knew it, but he was going to take me even further into the dark than Nancy had.

Because I had been here before, staring a cock in the face. I hadn't sucked another guy's cock since college. That I had sucked cock back then, a lot of cocks, actually, was my fundamental shame, something I had guiltily locked away. I'd never told my wife about my experiences with other boys in school. But I had always loved pleasing my friends and roommates back then, so I pumped Gary back to full hardness with my right hand as my lips and tongue pushed around, and under, that foreskin of his.

Giving a blowjob to an uncut cock was new territory for me. When my hand pulled back on Gary's penis, the foreskin went back also, and the big hot head of his cock was exposed. When my hand tugged him into my mouth, the skin came back over his glans and could enter my mouth with the shaft. But until he was completely erect, I could pull his foreskin towards his body, tighten my lips over the naked head of his cock, then pull the foreskin forward only to meet my tightly-pursed lips. It was almost like his cock had lips of its own, and his dick-lips could kiss my lips.

I was on my knees, swiveled around toward him, and bent over to feast on his penis. My buttocks were pointing at my scheming co-worker, who reached under my hips with both of her hands to jerk my lesser penis and pull my tortured nut-sack back firmly.

"Shit, your junk is worthless, hubby." Scrotum-pull. "No wonder your wife needs dick." Cock-yank.

Gary held my head gently, his big hands forcing my mouth up and down his re-erect shaft. He had clearly won the jackpot tonight, not only banging some slutty MILF, but getting a surprisingly enthusiastic blowjob from her apparently gay husband.

Nancy held my penis tightly in her left hand and dragged a finger through her gooey pussy to slick it up with her lubrication. Then my make-believe wife slowly pushed her finger into my asshole.

I tried to rock forward, but Nancy's other hand had a tight grip on my penis. I also tried to raise my head, but Gary held down tightly, keeping his dick in my mouth. Nancy took out her index finger, gave two fingers a crotch wipe this time, and inserted them side by side in my anus. This time she left them there and rotated her hand to corkscrew my sphincter open.

Gary saw Nancy teasing my ass, tightened his grip on me, and blew a surprisingly copious jizz-load into my mouth. I'd rarely ever ejaculated twice the same day, and if I did almost nothing squirted out the second time. Gary came a flood into my mouth. "Swallow me, Cuckyboy," he said, mockingly.

And as I did, as I took his sperm inside my body forever, I heard Nancy say "Jesus, Daddy, the Seattle trip next month is going to be the best one ever."

***

Ten months earlier:

The office end-of-year party was winding down, and I was in a corner with some co-workers talking about the upcoming Super Bowl. I hadn't had any alcohol all night, because I always considered myself my own "designated driver". I saw Sandra sitting at a table with Nancy and one of the other company women. Actually, Sandra was sort of slumping, because she was, typically, drunk. Not a problem, because I'm driving, and my wife deserves to let her hair down once in a while. The little woman doesn't get much excitement in her life.

Nancy jokingly apologized to Sandra for "taking Don out on the road so often." My wife snorted and said something to the effect that she wished Nancy would take me away more often. My frequent road companion was surprised. "I thought you guys are happy together. Don can't shut up about what a great wife you are, and how perfect a marriage you two have. I get a little tired of hearing about it, frankly, especially since my divorce."

"Don's a sweetheart, alright," Sandra slurred. "But he's a dud in bed if you want to know the truth. That's my only regret about marrying him. We have sex like five times a year. To be honest, Little Don isn't any good at fucking, even when he tries."

"I had no idea. Really, Don never says anything to me to let on that he's not happy."

"Oh, he's happy enough," Sandra told Nancy. "I don't think he wants sex."

"But what about you?" Nancy asked.

"I don't want it much either, with him." Sandra paused for a second, but the drinks had loosened her tongue too much not to continue. "That's why I thanked you. With Donnie on the road so much, I have lots of opportunities to bring my lovers home for sleepovers whenever I want."

"Oh my God, you, Sandra?" Nancy was shocked. "You take lovers?"

Sandra looked around the room for a second and said, "Nancy, several of the men in this room have seen my bedroom ceiling. And the ones who haven't have heard about it from the ones who have. Sweet little Donnie has been wearing the horns for a long time. The simple fuck doesn't have a clue he's a total cuckold. So, yes, thank you."